Daughter of the Eagle

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Daughter of the Eagle Page 4

by Don Coldsmith


  Long Walker, now almost at leisure, speared the dangling ring and turned his horse at a walk to the starting point. The crowd was cheering, and people were already beginning to pay off side bets.

  Furious and frustrated, Eagle Woman followed. She elected to say nothing about the jostling.

  The two drew their horses up before the waiting Standing Bird, and the girl let her lance point touch the ground. Six willow hoops rattled down the shaft to bounce against each other at the tip.

  Long Walker did likewise. Glumly Eagle Woman counted the rattling wooden rings. Seven, eight, nine! Her anger burned with even more resentment.

  There had been only fifteen targets on the hillside. Long Walker had not even needed the last ring, the one he had jostled her aside to reach. He had already won.

  8

  Eagle Woman was not concerned with her ability to best the challenger at the next event. She was confident that her ability with the bow was superior. When she announced her choice for the contest, the expression on Long Walker’s face said that he believed so, too. The girl had always bested him in the use of this weapon.

  Though she was confident, Eagle Woman looked farther ahead and despaired. A win with the bow would only bring the contestants even again, and the next choice was Long Walker’s. Aiee, there were many things at which he excelled. Which would he choose? Even so, she must take one step at a time. The first was the trial with bow and arrows.

  This test would be on foot. Already two young men were placing the stuffed-skin target at a distance of fifty paces. In the center of its surface, Standing Bird had painted a black spot the size of a hand’s span. Each of the contestants would use three arrows, shooting alternately. If there was no clear winner, they would continue to shoot in turn until Standing Bird declared the contest at an end.

  Eagle Woman stepped to the line and assumed the bowman’s stance. The dull-brown target seemed very small at this distance. She could hardly see the black center at all. She had sorted through her arrows, choosing the best and straightest, those with perfect balance. One, which initially appeared superior, was rejected because of a bulky and uneven lashing where the feathers were tied with sinew.

  The girl fitted the first shaft to the bowstring and drew the arrow to its head. The release felt satisfactory, and the missile was on its way. A shout went up from the group of spectators near the target, and one of the young men signaled the result. The feathered shaft was a hand’s span to the right of the black center.

  Irritated, Eagle Woman stepped back. She must allow more carefully for the wind. The light breeze from the south was pushing gently at the flying arrow, bending its course a trifle to the north.

  Long Walker, with the advantage of having observed the initial shot, stepped confidently forward. Also, his stronger bow would throw the arrow faster, causing less deflection by the wind. Eagle Woman watched closely. Perhaps he would overcorrect.

  Apparently this was exactly what happened. Long Walker’s confidence seemed shattered as the result was shouted back. His arrow rested a hand’s span left of the mark.

  Eagle Woman stepped forward again. She had studied the wind as it stirred the grasses to the left of the target. The breeze was light and shifting, at times almost dying. She could use these observations. It was a matter of timing.

  Carefully she watched, waiting until the ripple of the grass was stilled for a few heartbeats. Then, at the precisely proper moment, the girl drew and released her arrow. The release was smooth, and she knew before the shaft struck that it had flown true. Again a cheer went up from the observers. The feathered end protruded from the black spot.

  Long Walker’s next arrow went wild, nearly missing the skin target altogether. Such things happened. A slightly imperfect shaft, a defective feather, a puff of breeze, or perhaps even a poor release. Some of the spectators jumped in mock alarm and moved back from the area of the target. Long Walker smiled good-naturedly and waved to the laughing crowd.

  The girl readied her last arrow. The contest was as good as won now. If she could hit the skin at all, Walker must place his arrow in the black center to even equal her effort.

  Perhaps she was overconfident, not paying enough attention to the breeze. It would be easy to blame a defective arrow. Whatever the reason, Eagle Woman knew at the moment of release that her contest was in trouble. Helpless, she watched the misguided shaft fly with agonizing slowness across the flat of the meadow. Missing the grass-stuffed target entirely, the arrow struck the ground beyond, bounced, and leaped to shatter itself against the stony outcrop on the hillside.

  A subdued moan came from the spectators, with an occasional joyful chuckle from those who had bets on Long Walker. Now the day had suddenly turned.

  Long Walker now had only to hit the skin target to win. Amused, smiling, the young man stepped to the line and carefully readied his arrow.

  Why doesn’t he go ahead, the dejected Eagle Woman fumed. He had won, had proved his contention. Now he had only to shoot, to finish the contest. She would be relieved, actually, to have the thing over, to return to normal living. Unfortunately that could never really happen. Her life could never be the same again. Worst of all, her friendship with Long Walker had been shattered, leaving a puzzling sense of emptiness and loss.

  The girl wished to turn away, to leave the scene of the contest, but pride held her. She must watch Long Walker make his last shot, and then it would be over. The young man drew the arrow to its flint point, and the string twanged as he released his hold. The arrow sped on its way, and Eagle Woman started to turn away with a heavy heart.

  Suddenly there were shouts of shocked surprise from the group of spectators near the target. Eagle Woman turned quickly, in time to see Walker’s arrow skipping and bouncing on the hillside. Long Walker had missed!

  The surprised shouts blended into a sort of cheer from the supporters of Eagle Woman. Disgruntled losers at wagering were glumly beginning to pay off their bets before the girl realized the importance of this last shot. Her first two shots had been better than Walker’s, and both had missed on the third. She had won the contest.

  Close on the heels of the thought came another. Surely Long Walker could have easily hit the skin target if he had wished. Was it possible that he had intentionally missed to allow her to save face?

  The thought became a worrisome thing. If it were true, Eagle Woman did not know whether to love or hate him for it.

  In actual fact, however, she was never to know whether the miss was intentional or not.

  9

  Sun Boy was high overhead as Long Walker chose the next challenge. The crowd of spectators had been growing all morning as word spread of the excitement of the contest.

  “I choose the hunt!”

  Standing Bird nodded in agreement.

  “It is good. Both will ride out, and see who makes the first kill.”

  He gestured toward the distant prairie, with scattered buffalo dotting the bright green of the grassland.

  “What of the rules?” Eagle Woman demanded. “Must it be a buffalo?”

  “Did you wish to try for a rabbit, Eagle Woman?” someone called.

  The crowd laughed, and Standing Bird held up his hand for silence.

  “Buffalo, elk, deer, antelope,” he said seriously. “Any of these.”

  “How will it be known who is first? We may be out of sight.”

  Again, Standing Bird considered for a moment.

  “I will be at this spot,” he indicated. “You will bring me an ear from your kill. The first to return with the ear has won.”

  He looked around. The observers were eagerly awaiting this next contest. Wagering was heavy.

  “Now, no one is to follow them,” he warned. “Their hunt must not be disturbed.”

  Eagle Woman was thinking rapidly as she tightened the girth on the gray mare. There were two contests, almost. The hunt must be successful, but the race back to Standing Bird with the proof would be equally important.

  Her
kill, then, should be as close to camp as possible. A brief chase, or none at all. Anything to keep the return distance as short as possible, to be the first to arrive.

  The two contestants rode out together, side by side, in the direction of the scattered buffalo. They did not speak. Eagle Woman longed to break the uncomfortable silence but was reluctant to do so. It would be pleasant to discuss the hunt, the weather, anything, but Long Walker rode in silence, looking straight ahead. His mouth was set in a determined line which precluded conversation.

  How had it happened so suddenly, the girl wondered. Only a few suns ago the two had shared their thoughts, goals, and dreams. Now it was gone. They had come to a parting of the way.

  As she pondered these thoughts, Eagle Woman noticed a shifting movement to the left. Changing patterns of light and shadow in a small canyon told of grazing animals. She glanced at Long Walker, but his attention was fixed on the buffalo in the open prairie ahead.

  Of course. He would use the lance. He must have an open area for pursuit to make his kill. Eagle Woman, on the other hand, could function well in a more broken area. She could use the bow either in close pursuit or at a distance. She was certain that Long Walker had envisioned this hunt as an all-out charge into the herd, the hunters riding alongside a galloping buffalo to make the kill. But with the bow as her weapon, there were other options. She could approach quietly, without disturbing the grazing quarry. She could even stalk on foot.

  Ah! This thought had not occurred until now. Another glance at the small canyon revealed trees, brush, and rocky, uneven slopes. A perfect place for a stalk. Long Walker was paying no attention to the canyon since it was unsuitable for his purposes. The girl reined her horse aside.

  “Good hunting, Walker!”

  The young man looked across at her, surprised at the break in the silence.

  “Yes,” he stammered finally. “You, also.” He rode straight ahead.

  Eagle Woman’s gray mare tried for a moment to follow the other horse. The animal had sensed that a hunt was at hand and was becoming excited at the prospect of the chase.

  This did not follow the girl’s plan. The horse must remain calm. Firmly she drew the rein, and the reluctant Gray Cat turned aside. The animal was still nervous and skittish, and Eagle Woman headed for a small clump of trees, near the mouth of the canyon but out of sight from within.

  She swung down, tied the gray to a tree, and, as a precaution, knotted a thong around the mare’s nose to prevent the animal from calling out. Taking her bow and two arrows, she slipped quietly toward the broken slope of the canyon’s mouth. Long Walker was already out of sight around the shoulder of the hill.

  Eagle Woman moved quickly along an obscure game trail which threaded among the dogwood and sumac on the slope. She paused behind a boulder to view the scene and to plan her approach.

  There were five animals in sight, two cows with calves and a yearling bull, the latter probably the last season’s calf of the nearer cow. Eagle Woman carefully evaluated the possibilities. One cow was lying down, rechewing its food, while the other stood nearby doing likewise. The young bull was standing aimlessly near the others, lazy and a trifle sleepy in appearance. That would be her quarry, the girl decided. The bull would not be quite so wary and experienced.

  The breeze was right, from the animals toward her, so they would not catch her scent. A clump of sumac presented excellent concealment within easy bow shot. There would be only a short stalk through open grass to reach the brushy clump. But she must move quickly. Had Long Walker started his run yet? She wondered as she dropped to a crouch and moved forward, gripping her weapon.

  It was an easy approach at first. The resting animals appeared relaxed, not noticing the slim figure slipping among the rocks and brush. Quickly, though, came the last cluster of broken rocks. She must begin her crawl across the open.

  All her skill in crawling close to the earth was called into use. As quickly as was practical, the girl slithered forward, using each sparse clump of real-grass for concealment. The distance she must crawl was no more than fifty paces, yet three times she saw the wary old cows become restless and start to swing their heads curiously. Each time she froze, motionless, until the animals resumed their chewing. The last time she stopped Eagle Woman thought the buffalo would never quiet. One cow paced restlessly, stopping frequently to gaze in the direction of the stalker.

  The girl had been caught in an extremely awkward posture, one knee forward and at a cramped angle. She braced herself with suffering muscles, afraid to do more than blink an eye. An ant crawled slowly up a grass blade not a hand’s span in front of her eyes. It felt as though another was doing the same across her left ankle. Carefully Eagle Woman disciplined her actions. If the insect decided to bite, she must not jump or move involuntarily. She knew that the buffalo’s vision was poor and that if she only remained motionless, she would not likely be seen.

  At last the suspicious cow appeared to accept that nothing was amiss. Sleepily the animal returned to chewing.

  Eagle Woman slid forward, now in the concealment of the sumac clump. She peered between the stems, fitting an arrow to her bowstring. The young bull stood broadside, chewing contentedly.

  She must place her arrow carefully. An animal pierced through the heart might panic and run wildly as it died. She would try for the lungs. The bull faced slightly away from her, exposing the left flank. Eagle Woman drew her arrow to the head and smoothly released the string.

  For a moment it appeared that she had missed. There was only a slight flinch, and the bull swung his tail as he might at the bite of a fly. Slowly the animal’s knees buckled, and he began to sag ponderously to the ground, bloody froth spewing from the nostrils.

  Eagle Woman sprang from concealment, sprinting forward while she fumbled at her waist for her flint knife. She did not find it immediately and glanced down as she halted near the dying buffalo and reached for the ear.

  Panic seized her as the truth finally sank home. The knife was gone, lost somewhere in the tall grass as she had crept forward on her belly. Frantically she turned to search for it, but she quickly realized the futility. Time was critical. She might still be searching when Long Walker had returned with his trophy.

  Be calm, she told herself. Think, reason, decide what to do. There must be some way to sever the ear. She glanced around for a sharp stone, knowing that there would be none. Her eyes fell upon her bow and the remaining arrow, where she had laid the weapon on the grass. Of course!

  Hardly had the thought formed before she had seized the arrow and was using the point as a knife, sawing through skin and cartilage. She finished the cut, jerked the ear free, and sprinted toward her horse.

  The girl jerked the thong loose, untied the mare, and started to swing up, but she was hampered. Her left hand held her bow and arrows, the right the precious ear which symbolized the contest. She seemed not to have enough hands. Without hesitation she grasped the hairy trophy in her teeth and vaulted to the horse’s back, drumming heels into the mare’s sides.

  They shot from the clump of trees, and the mare sprinted toward the camp. The girl was dimly aware of hooves drumming behind her but did not even look back. She brought the mare to a sliding stop before the knot of cheering onlookers. Standing Bird stood smiling and extended his hand to receive the symbol of proof.

  Eagle Woman spat out the furry ear and handed it to the Elk-dog chief, just as Long Walker’s horse slid to a stop behind her.

  “Eagle Woman,” chuckled Standing Bird, “there is blood on your face.”

  10

  It was near day’s end, and Long Elk announced that no further contest would start. The Challenge would resume in the morning, with Eagle Woman choosing the contest.

  Meanwhile both hunters returned to the scene of their kills to guide the butchering parties. There would be little time to salvage the meat before darkness fell. By morning, coyotes and other predators of the night would have left little of use.

  Eagle Woman
would retrieve the arrow which had made such an all-important kill. In addition, she wished to search for her knife.

  Carefully, time after time, she retraced the path of her stalk, looking for any sign, but without success. Shadows were growing long, and the others were straggling back to camp, laden with meat, before the girl conceded that the knife was gone. She regretted the loss, but weapons were sometimes lost or broken. It could be replaced. Her main regret was an irritation with herself for her carelessness.

  Eagle Woman had already stated that tomorrow’s contest would be a race. A horse race, a match between the two contestants to show their ability in handling the Elk-dog. The girl counted on the speed and agility of Gray Cat against the more ponderous strength of Long Walker’s big bay. In addition, she counted some advantage in the fact that her own weight was much less for a horse to carry than that of Long Walker.

  Eagle Woman found it difficult to sleep that night, even in her state of physical exhaustion. There was far too much excitement in the air. The People were enjoying the contest of the Challenge immensely. There had not been such a time of interest since the Sun Dance and the Big Council. The stories of the contested events of the day were being told and retold over the evening fires. Interest in tomorrow’s race was high, and the stakes in the wagering were becoming heavy. Bobcat had returned to the lodge to relate that one man had wagered his best buffalo horse against his friend’s bow and a new buckskin shirt with extraordinarily fine quill work.

  Bobcat was amused, but Eagle Woman had mixed feelings. It was flattering to have people express confidence in her, but also irritating that they would argue and make bets over the turning points in her life.

  Her basic feeling, however, as she lay in her robes waiting for sleep to come, was one of confidence. Of the three contests so far, she had won two. If she could win the race tomorrow, Long Walker would probably concede, and her admission to the Elk-dog Society would be accepted. From her present winning position it was becoming easier to forgive Walker for the Challenge. Possibly their relationship could be restored after all. Having proved herself, she would be ready to forgive and forget, and surely Long Walker would do the same. With this pleasant fantasy skipping playfully through her mind, she finally fell asleep.

 

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